Sitting on a branch of the fig tree, I gaze to the east, watching to horizon, where the calm, dark ocean meets the light sky. I lean to the trunk, with one arm around the trunk and the other around my legs. A cool breeze rushes up to me, through the branches and moving the leaves, the slightly salty tinge to it tickling my nose gently. I inhale deeply, taking in the crisp, clean smell. I lean closer to the trunk and close my eyes. I open them again and gaze at the vines below me. The view from this fig tree is amazing... being able to see a part of the vineyard and my little part of the Mediterranean is the best part of being here, in the south of France. This is my little place on this world.

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